


it's you

by milkdaze (flowerstems)



Series: if you love me, let me know [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 17:31:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6018616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flowerstems/pseuds/milkdaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Felicity gets sick the week of Valentines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's you

Felicity gets sick the week of Valentines.

It's a shame because she was so excited to do “all sorts of couple things” with Laurel, only to hole herself up in her room, sniffling and coughing and sounding absolutely miserable over the phone.

The only thing Laurel can think to do, despite Felicity’s vehement objections, is visit her girlfriend in her time of need.

When Laurel knocks on the door to Felicity’s apartment, she tries her best to hide the bouquet of roses and the box of chocolates behind her back as she waits. It's harder than she expects, much harder, and when Felicity opens the door Laurel grins and shoulders her way inside before Felicity can force her back out.

“Laurel, I really, really don't want you to catch this! You'll be so miserable and I can't imagine you getting sick at all, I'll never forgive myself if-”

“Calm down,” Laurel soothes, and Felicity looks like she's at a loss before plopping down on the couch and grabbing some tissues to sneeze into.

“I can't believe you have to see me like this.”

“I don't mind at all, I have vitamins. And guess what else I have?” Laurel is sure Felicity already knows but she perks up anyway, eyes watery but interested, and Laurel presents the bouquet and the chocolates with a wide smile. “Surprise!”

“Oh my God, Laurel,” Felicity grins, sniffles, and gets to her feet, taking the bouquet in one arm and the box of chocolate in the other. She buries her face in the bouquet and tries to sniff the roses before giving up and laughing. “They smell great, I'm sure they do.”

“Mhm,” Laurel hums, walking around to wrap her arms around Felicity’s waist, burying her face in the crook of Felicity’s neck and lightly kissing her favourite spot, the skin feverish beneath her lips. “Now let's get you to bed.”

“But-”

“No buts. You're still sick, remember?”

Felicity sniffles and Laurel can hear the frown in her voice, “I only wish I could forget.”

“You'll get better soon,” Laurel coos, coaxing Felicity to her bedroom and into bed, resting the bouquet and chocolates on the end table. She pulls a chair over to Felicity’s bedside and rests her palm on her forehead. Felicity has a fever. How surprising. “Have you eaten anything?”

“I've eaten so much soup.”

“Have you eaten anything _today_?”

“Uh—” Laurel chuckles and gets to her feet, leaving the room as Felicity weakly objects,” Wait, come back. Please. No more soup.”

Laurel leans against the doorjamb and smiles, something warm and comforting and Felicity relaxes into her bed. Then she says, “Get ready for more soup,” and Felicity groans like she has never groaned before.

 

* * *

 

Half an hour later, Laurel attempts to feed Felicity the soup, which earns her a weak hiss. Laurel frowns, just a little, and Felicity sits up and takes the soup, eating it slowly and shooting Laurel these adorable fake glares.

“Thank you,” Felicity says when Laurel returns with a glass of orange juice, having washed the empty bowl and insisting juice will help Felicity’s throat. “Not just for the soup but, you know, staying with me.”

Laurel smiles and offers her the glass, Felicity takes it and drinks about half of it by the time Laurel sits down. “You don't have to thank me. I can't think of anything I'd rather do.”

“Really, because I can think of at least ten things I want you to do instead of being stuck her with snot-nosed me.”

“I mean,” Laurel says, sliding off her chair and onto the bed beside Felicity, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and ignoring Felicity’s squeak of protest, “I _want_ to be with my favourite person in the world, whether you're sick or not.”

Felicity sniffles, “Even on Valentine’s day?”

“Especially on Valentine's day,” Laurel grins, kissing the tip of Felicity’s nose, which Felicity says is both brave and gross between gulps of orange juice. Laurel rests the empty glass on the end table then coaxes Felicity to lie down, “Now come on, it’s time to rest, and don’t tell me you’ve been resting all day because I saw your laptop on the couch and I know it’s on.”

Felicity laughs, breaks off into a coughing fit then shrugs it off and laughs again. “How do you know me so well?”

“Because you’re the Felicity Smoak we all know and love.”

“Yeah.” Felicity sinks into her covers and Laurel’s arms, hugging her waist after Laurel refuses to leave and kissing her arm then resting her head on her chest. “I love you, too.”

Laurel stays up until she hears Felicity’s breathing even out as best as it can, little sniffles and coughs starting up every now and then, but Laurel just hugs her close and waits until they stop.

She falls asleep leaning against the headboard, Felicity’s head still on her chest and her arms still around her waist.

 

* * *

 

When they wake up the next morning, Felicity beams, feeling confident for the first time that week that she was finally going to get over this cold. Laurel smiles and pecks her cheek, stroking her hair then sneezing into the crook of her elbow.

Felicity shrieks and two hours later they’re sitting on the couch watching _CSI_ , eating some of Laurel’s leftover soup, huddled together under a thick blue blanket and every time Felicity says, “I told you this would happen,” Laurel laughs and snuggles into her side.

“I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> Tuesday (Feb 9th): Gift Giving or Anything Sweet!


End file.
